


P-orcing All the Girls: The Spinoff Files

by Blackmarch



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Blackmarch Stylings, F/F, F/M, Funny, Gen, Hilarity, Multiple Crossovers, mostly sfw, some nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 05:29:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackmarch/pseuds/Blackmarch
Summary: All the stuff that I couldn't fit into the main story, or were written for laughs with it as the base, can be found here!All the stuff written by me, anyway... There is more to be found on Questionable Questing! Ask me about it if you're interested in giving it a look!





	1. You Flatter Me (FOZ CROSS SFW)

"Divine, beautiful and powerful, huh? You've got me pegged." Lisa started dryly. As dryly as a wife and mother of four could possibly go without spitting dust and sand in a skin-searing cloud. A skill she wished she had at her disposal, or something like, seeing how she had found herself naked as the day she was born, in bed, with only a sheet, in front of what looked like a bunch of really silent kids wearing capes and their instructor who was also wearing a cape...and god. What was with the hair around here?  
  
Did that pink one dye it or—nope. All of them were natural. Weird. Not the weirdest thing she’d ever seen in her life, by far, but weird.  
  
"That servant thing though? We're going to have to have a talk." She did _not_ get pulled away from roleplay night, right before the big event, to be some strange kid's nanny. Nope. Not happening, for multiple reasons...with one above all.  
  
Once again. Four kids. _Four_. And that wasn’t even counting what the rest of the girls had contributed to the pile, let alone _Hannah_. Saying that she was beyond done wasn’t even close to her feelings on the matter.  
  
"P-purple." Pinkie squeaked, her face just as red as the rest of her when Lisa tied a knot in her, obviously purple, sheets and draped it around herself. Thank you, Pinkie, for pointing that out to the class. "So much...and that quality...who made this?" The tiny girl swallowed, hard and painful. "Who are you?"  
  
"Oh...no one special. Just someone." A sidelong look at the now quietly (but not too quietly) muttering group gave her a little more data. The medieval castle behind the lot of them gave her the rest. Right now, she was sitting on more money than most of these _nobles_ had ever seen in their lives. Here, purple wasn't just her favorite color. It was the color of royalty...and her bed was covered in it.  
  
The only thing that could make it any more expensive would be if the frame was made of aluminum. Which it was. Partly. So, yes. It really _was_ the most expensive thing anyone here had ever seen in their lives.  
  
"Someone that would really like some privacy and time to get dressed before I have to start taking heads if that isn’t too much to ask?"  
  
“Of course,” The balding teacher replied with a stiff nod as she wiped his brow. A minor reprieve as the sweat continued to run down his forehead. “I’ll lead you, and Miss Valliere—  
  
‘Valliere’ whimpered much like a kicked puppy would.  
  
—to her chambers so that you can get dressed and we can get this whole—mess sorted out.”  
  
“That sounds _wonderful_.” Lisa flicked her fingers in the direction of the main building without even giving it a look. “Now, lead on.”  
  
Keep playing up the miffed Empress angle, yep. Nothing could possibly go wrong there.  
  
==========  
  
An hour, some food, and a lot of groveling later and Lisa almost felt like she was at home. Almost. The groveling that happened at home wasn’t nearly so—  
  
“Please. Please...” Louise begged. Actually _begged_. On her knees, tears running down her face, hands raised in supplication with an expression of resignation, like that of a woman being led towards the gallows that saw no way out. “If you must punish anyone for what happened, have it be me. Have it be this poor, miserable failure with no runic name of real consequence.”  
  
—real though. It wasn’t nearly as nice as Lisa had thought it would have been when she was younger. Normally, these days, it was just for fun (and boy was it) or because someone had taken the last cookie out of the jar.  
  
Right now though, even as she put on her roleplaying hat and veil (just as purple as the rest of her outfit, when it wasn’t leather) all she could feel was...well. Kind of shitty.  
  
“Oh, get up. You’re being silly.” Lisa sighed, took one of Louise’s hands in her own, and forced her to her feet, all while looking for, then retrieving, a handkerchief from her bag. A handkerchief that was quickly put to work all over the much smaller girl’s face...poor thing wasn’t the type to make it look good, sadly. “I’m not going to declare war on your country just because you made a tiny mistake.”  
  
She hadn’t spent most of her adult life running a city and raising a family, just so she’d have the chance to bully sixteen-year-old girls. Sixteen-year-old girls that had just frozen after realizing that their snot and tears were being wiped away by something that was worth as much as their yearly allowance. It made things easier to do though, so Lisa allowed it.  
  
“This will all blow over soon. Believe me. You’ll be fine.” Lisa continued to speak, more soothing than anything else as she felt Louise start to sniffle under her hand. “Besides? Do you see any soldiers here? Any war beasts?” Lisa snorted. “What am I going to do by myself? Besides taking up your space, eating your food, and otherwise annoying you, I mean?”  
  
“I guess that’s true…” Louise said sullenly.  
  
“All I need is a good kick from you and you’ve won the war. And I’m talking about _you_. Not even kidding. Fighting isn’t my thing.” Lisa gave Louise one last dab then tucked that handkerchief away. Much better now. “If it had been my husband though, that would have been a different story.”  
  
Louise blinked. “... You’re married?”  
  
“For the last eight years. I also have three girls and a boy. They take after their father when it comes to the whole ‘kicking thing’.” Lisa let out a short chuckle, then grinned. “I have to tell you. It's hard to say no to your kids when they walk up to you with that pony they want over their shoulder.”  
  
Really. That had happened once and it had been _terrifying_. Mostly for the pony, but still. Lisa had been seriously worried that it was going to crap itself in the house.  
  
“So...not only did I kidnap royalty…” Louise’s already low mood, much to Lisa’s alarm, went into a nosedive. “But I stole them from their homes. Their husband. Their children. I am lost.” The alarm just got even louder as she started eying that piece of wood that she called a wand like anyone else would eye a gun. “Mother is going to _kill me_...unless I...”  
  
Thankfully, before Lisa had to seriously consider whether or not to take Louise’s wand away before she did something stupid, there was a knock at the door. A knock that had Louise stewing in a completely different emotion than overwhelming despair.  
  
“Zero!”  
  
Petty annoyance and low-key hate, with an undercurrent of simmering rage. If anything could convince Lisa that the younger girl’s scholastic experience wasn’t going all that well, that was it. Still, better than before. There was that.  
  
“Zero! Look at what you did! Look at this!” The knocking grew yet louder, causing Louise to grit her teeth hard enough to hear… Lisa hoped that they had magical dental in this reality because that sounded about as healthy as chewing rock. “You’ve cursed me! My familiar is too distracting and I can’t focus on my work and he won’t let me bind him and…and other things! You did _something_ to make him the way he is and I demand recompense!”  
  
Too distracting and male, hmm? Now, who did that sound like? Three guesses and the first two didn’t count.  
  
“I did no such thing!” Louise just about roared into the new girl’s face, an aristocratic, bitchy looking blonde, as soon as she got the door open. “If you have anyone to blame for wetting the bed, look at yourself, Flood!”  
  
Damn. That was cold. Also, a reference to true events. Lisa approved.  
  
The drill-haired girl gasped. “I-you… How dare you! Also, no! That isn’t, and was never the problem! The problem is that you’ve jinxed me, you stupid little failure!”  
  
“Once again!” Louise cut the younger blonde off, not even showing the hurt she must have been feeling after that hit aimed right at her self-esteem. “If you must blame someone for your problems, blame yourself! It wasn’t _I_ who slept in this morning, forcing me to the back of the line! It was _you_!”  
  
“A duel!” ‘Flood’ snapped back. “I demand a duel! Or are you a cowa—”  
  
“Okay. Enough of that. Stop. Cease. Desist.”  
  
A collective shiver ran through every girl in the room. A shiver that had the color of Louise and the new girl’s cheeks turning into a stunning shade of pink. Lisa, already used to the feeling of that bass beating against her hindbrain, just smiled.  
  
“Ten years. Ten years and this still happens. It’s like watching Missy and Dinah go at it all over again, I swear… And, please move, Montmorency. I need to see and you’re blocking the door,” Moss grumbled and sighed as, with the ease of long practice, he ushered the now mindlessly giggling girl in front of him and through the doorway before he leaned down to give Lisa a stately nod, just to play along...and he’d said that her obsession with purple had gone a bit too far. Hah! “My Empress.”  
  
Lisa, in return, nodded back with twice the stateliness. “My Emperor.”  
  
“He’s beautiful,” Louise murmured, her hands to her cheeks, her eyes wide and shining as she looked Moss up and down, bringing to mind the idea of a kitten looking up at something they really, _really_ wanted even as she completely ruined the moment. “Like...like a big, green statue with itty-bitty pants and an even bigger green…” She tittered.  
  
Before Louise could continue to embarrass herself by waxing philosophical about Moss’s tool, much to Lisa’s resurgent amusement, she was interrupted _again_.  
  
“Isn’t he just?” A new, and painfully top heavy, dark-skinned girl popped in seemingly from out of nowhere to grab onto a long-suffering Moss’s hand and place that hand in between her cleavage with a purr. “Hello, darling. I’m Kirche and if there’s anything that I can do for you, anything at all, especially in my room, I’d be happy to—”  
  
“Nobody asked you, Zerbst! Get out of here!”


	2. I've Been Told My Hands Are Magic (MLP CROSS SFW)

_I could feel liquid coming out of my ears. Vertigo. A lack of equilibrium due to my inner ear getting a beating...and I tipped forward into the swirling, red, and fucking obvious magical portal._  
  
_“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!”_  
  
_I fell, and I began to pray as the last thing I saw on her face was horror._  
  
_“NO!”_  
  
_My balance had never been the best…but the bird I flipped her before the portal closed behind me was in fine form._  
  
_And then, things went bad again._  
  
Hell, things actually got worse if you can believe it. It was...it was like someone was trying to force me through a tube. A black, noise absorbing, painful tube with twists and turns and hard right angles that no man of my size (average) or weight (no comment) should ever be forced to travel through. At least, not unless you were a Chinese acrobat or something. Someone who had been trained to stuff themselves in glass boxes since before they could walk.  
  
Obviously, that someone wasn’t me. Also obviously, I was seriously worried I was going to die.  
  
Yeah. It hurt that bad. Maybe. I couldn’t deny that I had no idea how it would have felt being forced into a glass box...but I knew that I wasn’t having any fun here, in the dark and quiet. It was almost, _almost_ , bad enough that I wished I’d let Melly pull a Highlander on me instead so that I wouldn’t be forced to deal with it all anymore...and then, there was light.  
  
Also, there was gravity. And screaming. And me spinning, not even knowing up from down, the sky from the wooden flooring that I assumed was below me before I—  
  
==========  
  
To say that today was a difficult day in Equestria was like saying that Rainbow Dash liked to talk a lot. Or that Rarity was a little melodramatic. Or that Applejack had a liking for apples. Or that Fluttershy was really, scarily good at the quiet game. Or that Pinkie was... _Pinkie_.  
  
All of those statements were true. All of those statements were also criminally understated in Twilight’s opinion.  
  
“And now that I have silenced the hecklers in the audience—”  
  
“That no good, boastin’, lasso defilin’...”Applejack grumbled lowly under her breath, still sore over how badly things had gone when she’d gone up to put the traveling magician in her place. “Ah’ll bet mah last bit on her pulling out a rabbit from that ratty ‘ol thing.”  
  
“You give her too much credit, AJ,” Dash said, adding her own two cents to the gloom that had take over their little spot up at the front of the crowd. “I say it’s going to be a mouse. A teeny, tiny little...”  
  
“I think I’d like that.” Fluttershy interrupted with a whisper as she shyly dug her hoof into the earth. “It sounds nice…”  
  
Rarity, already long gone, continued to scream about her hair.  
  
Spike, instead of saying anything to that or anything that had just happened or was currently happening, just continued to look up at Twilight with big, pleading eyes. Nearly begging her to _do_ something about this instead of just looking on. Begging her to show off, to show the town that Trixie’s words had about as much substance to them as the air above room temperature.  
  
Anyway, today was proving itself to be _very_ difficult.  
  
“—I, the Great and Powerful Trrrixieee shall pull a most terrifying beast from her hat! This very, very empty hat!” The blue and white unicorn that just about everyone in town, to varying degrees of excitement and general feelings of goodwill declared before she swept said hat off of her head, it’s bottom out to show everyone that there was nothing within. “Now watch, and be amazed as I pull off one of the greatest tricks of the age!”  
  
With probably a little more dramaticism than was required Trixie rolled a hoof about, tossed her mane with a flip of the head, and put her right foreleg in up to the elbow where she began to rummage about. Here. There. In one spot then another...and that smile of hers became the slightest bit smaller.  
  
“One moment, my audience! It seems that the monster I was going to bring out is...how do I say this?” Trixie started to sweat. Just a very light coat around her horn, hidden under the light sheen of her magic...but sweat all the same. “Sleeping?”  
  
“Boooooo!” Rainbow called out, “Faaaaakkeee!”  
  
“One moment I said!” Trixie snapped, that light sheen on her forehead becoming yet more pronounced while the audience started to murmur. “Such a beast isn’t something that anypony can just summon all willy nilly! It takes time and talent! Nothing you’d know about! So how about you—” She stopped rummaging. Her smile reformed. “—eat your words, plebeian!”  
  
With a hard, almost vicious yank that had Fluttershy audibly gasping and nearly fluttering in the air while on the edge of her metaphorical seat from the implied violence she was witnessing...there was the sound of a stressed cork and...tinny screams?  
  
That didn’t sound good. Not at all. Didn’t feel good either, now that Twilight’s hairs felt like they were trying to stand on end as something _tore_.  
  
“I present to you, my fellow ponies, the greatest monster any of you has ever seen in your lives!”  
  
Another yank was made. Another attempt at dislodging whatever she might have had in her hat as her horn started to glow yet brighter to add some force...and the cork popped. Loudly and visibly as Trixie’s jaw met whatever had just come flying out of the hat and found itself wanting, sending her flying backward, plot-over-teakettle without even a peep to show for it.  
  
She’d been knocked out. Completely. Thankfully.  
  
Twilight was no doctor...but she suspected that her fellow unicorn would be seeing a nurse after something like that. As would whatever... _thing_ had just popped out of her hat, did three nearly perfect midair backflips, screaming the whole time as if he was a kettle, before he (it sounded like a he) hit the floor of the stage, face first, and went just as quiet with a splat and the crunch of broken cartilage.  
  
Silence. Just silence all around from everypony while Fluttershy, after some deliberation with herself, flew onstage to check on the animal that Trixie had _somehow_ pulled from her hat. An animal that the spell Trixie had used, as well crafted as it had been, had _not_ been designed to do anything near half as impressive as pulling a previously unknown and _clothed_ creature from...wherever it had come from in the manner it did.  
  
“Girls!” Fluttershy called out, just before the crowd started to clap bemusedly, unsure of what they’d just seen had been part of the show or not. “I need some help carrying him to my house! He’s hurt!”  
  
All Trixie had been using was a ‘Hidden Pocket’ spell. An easy enough thing to do for anypony with even a bit of talent when it came to illusions...and then, it hadn’t been a ‘Hidden Pocket’ spell. Something had changed. Something had _broken_.  
  
There was something _wrong_ here. Nothing Twilight could put her hoof on, but...she’d need to study. Soon.  
  
“... Ah’m mare enough to admit Ah was wrong about something,” Applejack scratched under her hat with a sigh before she hopped up on stage and began helping Fluttershy get the well-dressed creature up and over her back. “She didn’t pull out no rabbit.”  
  
“No mouse either. Also, that ending wasn’t half bad." Rainbow grudgingly admitted. "Those flips were pretty cool. Up until he hit the ground anyway...But...” Rainbow, who had just been about to give the creature an inquisitive poke somewhere sensitive looking, quailed at the look Fluttershy gave her at that and gave it up as a bad job. “What is it?”  
  
A beat of silence. Long enough for Fluttershy to think while they made their way off the stage and around the ponies who, as of yet, hadn’t realized that the show had come to an end. Then, the paramedics coming to check on the showmare, prompt as always. “ I don’t know...” She smiled. “But isn’t nature just _fascinating_?”


	3. All In the Eyes (PORCING OMAKE SFW)

“Alright, girls. Welcome to Lisa’s study corner,” Lisa said with a content sigh as she spun around on her heel to face her two friends/harem mates who had, so far, been waiting for her relatively patiently to finish setting up several strips of paper with hand-drawn (her powers and art were surprisingly complementary) sketching on the corkboard behind her. Sadly though, she hadn't been able to finish the banner with their club name on it in time for their gathering. “And to your first lesson in how to take care of your Moss when he’s sad.”  
  
“... Is that what we’re doing?” Amy asked slowly around her mouth full of pizza and a dash of soda. “I just came because you said there was going to be pizza and snacks.” With that, she swallowed. The bulge that ran down her throat, while alarming, was surprisingly erotic...and Lisa acknowledged that she had to get her head out of the gutter. “Good job on coming through with that part. That’s how you get people to stay. Proud of you.”  
  
“Look. I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life,” Lisa admitted proudly as she looked back on her many, many ATM heists, “but I’ve never lied about pizza and snacks. I’m not a monster.”  
  
“We never got them at your apartment though,” Victoria put in her two-cents with a large smile on her face as she pointed out the one time they’d ever been there before Lisa had been forced to move out. “What about then?”  
  
“They were there. Lots of snacks. Loads.” Lisa shrugged. “If you didn’t get any before the Nazis broke up the party though, that’s your problem...and that isn’t important.” Lisa slapped the back of her hand against the corkboard. “What _is_ important is that Moss isn’t feeling too good. Beating up gang members only does so much, and we should probably cheer him up before he does something crazy to deal with his existential angst.”  
  
“But we’re already having sex with him. A lot of sex. I mean, a _lot_...but, I guess, since I don’t really have to do anything after school… I can take your shifts.” Vicky gave her cheek a scratch as the other two girls gave her unimpressed looks. Though, of course, what with her being Victoria, she pushed on anyway. “No need to thank me or anything.”  
  
“You’re all heart, Vicky.”  
  
“I am, aren’t I?”  
  
“I’m sorry to say that sex, for once, isn’t the answer here,” Lisa cut the both of them off before they could start bickering. “Sex is all well and good but, honestly, it’s starting to get more than a little monotonous, even for him.” Her shoulders fell slightly. “Fun as it is, we’re going to back off a little. Despite all our assurances, he still has doubts about his biology, and how much he’s really in control...and our insatiable hunger for what’s in his pants isn’t helping.”  
  
“It’s so good though…” Victoria grumbled as she nibbled on some chips.  
  
“Once again, Vicky. Not helping. Listen.”  
  
“He’s fine though,” Amy interrupted as a form of payback against Lisa, who had cut her off before. “Whatever his system uses in place for Testosterone has been falling. His stress levels are down. He seems to be a lot calmer and collected. Fuck, it took him longer than a _minute_ before he broke and ravaged you last week... And, let me tell you, I would have broken sooner with what you were wearing.” Amy gave Lisa an up and down before suggestively licking her lips. “Yummy.”  
  
“I know that. You know that. Hell, even he knows that.” Lisa, feeling pleased by the reminder that people found her attractive, explained… She hadn’t had this much fun in years. She should have taken up starting and managing a Harem ages ago. Anyway, onwards. “But feelings don’t care about facts! Any therapist, or internet nerd, can tell you that! And Moss feels like he is just using us. Over and over again! For hours at a time, dominating us, breaking us down into anim-”  
  
“You’re drooling.”  
  
Lisa and Vicky wiped their mouths with the back of their hands while Amy, pretending she hadn’t been affected, stuffed more pizza into her cavernous maw.  
  
“Anyway!” Lisa coughed, “we need to show that we care for him as a person and not just as the giver of mind-blowing orgasms.” Lisa picked pulled a remote out of her back pocket. “And, so, I have prepared a slideshow of how exactly we can go about doing this!” Lisa said as she pressed a button on the remote. The lights dimmed as the curtains slowly closed.  
  
“Such bullshit...” Amy muttered from her spot on the couch as she looked around.  
  
“I love this fucking Penthouse.” Lisa agreed, her Cheshire-smile no doubt visible even in the dim light. Another button click and the glow of a projection screen came together right next to her. “I mean their Projector system actually works without having to fiddle with it for 20 minutes!” Lisa said as she clicked another button. “Like magic!”  
  
Lisa, being the generous being that she was, allowed them to soak in what she expected of them...and they reacted much like she’d expected them to.  
  
“Seriously? How the heck will _this_ make him feel better about everything?” Amy said, aghast at what it was Lisa wanted them to do. “You want us to make _faces_?”  
  
“Yep! It’ll work though! Trust me!” Lisa said, going onto the next slide. “Trust the Thinker, Amy.”  
  
“Fuck you,” Amy replied reasonably.  
  
“So what happens if this fails?” Vicky said, watching wide-eyed as the diagrams flashed on by. “What do we do then?”  
  
“... The worst _realistic_ outcome? We lose a weekend because we were all fucked into comas.” Lisa chuckled, using the built in laser pointer on the remote to point to where that specific outcome had been put on the current slide. “That’s fine though. It’s the weekend. We could all do with a vacation.”  
  
“And the worst, unrealistic, outcome?” Victoria asked, curious.  
  
“Well...that’s open-ended. It ranges from The Simurgh deciding she wants Moss to be her boy toy and that we’re in the way, to us dumping Moss for the worst possible sexual encounter of our lives.”  
  
“Ah. So nothing to worry about.”  
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
“So what’s the incentive for me to go along with this?” Amy asked before picking up another slice. “What’s in it for me?  
  
“... Honestly? Other than helping Moss feel better about himself, there’s not much,” Lisa said in an uncharacteristically frank manner. “I mean...you can walk out that door right now and I won’t do much except give you shit about it for a week and not let you have the remote when it’s your turn.”  
  
Amy worked that over in her head for a while. “... Fine. I’ll do it… If only because of the pizza.”  
  
“Thought so.”  
  
==========  
  
Lisa, being who she was, knew when Moss had come home before anyone else.  
  
It was the little things that did it, just like always. A vibration in the air. A rumble under her feet. A feeling that she could only call an _understanding._..as well as the fact that he’d literally just walked in through the door of the sitting room like a tired salaryman, panda suit and a medium-sized bag of loot in hand, and was now slowly trudging his way to the living room so that he could kick his feet up and pop a couple of beers.  
  
The great scourge of Mordor he was not… Not that it was his fault or anything. She appreciated whatever he could bring back in whatever state he found it in… But, lately, the villains had gone to ground in the face of the combined might of New Wave, Moss, and the slowly gathering Protectorate and it was getting harder and harder to find them… Oh well. The legitimacy he was building with this was pretty good as it was. She couldn’t be (too) greedy.  
  
Also, she was thinking too far ahead. Coil first, big plans after.  
  
That was all Lisa could say in the privacy of her own head as she nudged the other girls and flicked her head towards their prearranged staging area...that just so happened to be the living room. Where Moss was going. A testament to Lisa’s planning skills, no doubt. If anyone said anything different, they were lying, plain and simple.  
  
You can’t prove anything. Fuck you.  
  
Anyway, by the time Moss had stuffed his suit down the dry cleaning chute and opened the door to the living room, they were as ready as they were ever going to be, all in their poses. Holding them even, as perfectly still as possible while they waited for Moss to stop rubbing the bridge of his nose in between his fingers and _fucking look at them already!_  
  
With a sharp huff of air and yet some more face rubbing that showed just how stressed he was all by itself, he reinforced it by working his jaw until it cracked before forcing a smile on his face while dropping his bag of loot on the floor. “I’m home!”  
  
Amy, no longer willing to put up with these shenanigans now that her eyes were starting water (So were Victoria’s and Lisa’s, but you didn’t see them complaining) got her can of welcome home beer, wound up like a pitcher, and threw it as hard as she could before forcing herself back into position.  
  
You could always count on Amy to get right to the heart of a problem...and be a brilliant patsy for whenever Lisa did something out of character.  
  
The impact of said can against Moss’s gut, leading to him opening his eyes with a shocked yell, just like Amy had been going for...and his fumbling catches at the can stopped completely, causing it to fall to the ground as a dented, shaken mess while he took in the sight of the three of them trying to cheer him up in the best way that Lisa knew of that didn’t involve Kaiser’s head on a stick.  
  
It had worked once before, in the middle of him fucking Lisa’s face even, and the blonde had no reason to suspect that it wouldn’t again… Which was why she was at the front, the first one noticed. The first one to succeed, or the first one to be embarrassed... With her eyes rolled up behind her lids, mouth lewdly open, and a forced blush on her face as she flashed a pair of peace signs at him. A classic ‘fucked-silly’ pose.  
  
Victoria, on the other hand, went with something completely different. Forced tears, the impression of sweat. Unfocused eyes and tousled hair as she pressed her hands tightly against her face in a pose that just _screamed_ desperation and need.  
  
Amy though… Amy got the heart contacts. With her looking up at Moss, with her hair over her eye...and the sloppiest pose among the three of them, somehow more _real_ as her surprisingly long tongue hung from her mouth, dripping wet as it laid on her chin. Even with the hand at her left breast, over her heart to quiet it’s mad and unwanted beating.  
  
The trifecta was complete...and Moss could only stare. And stare. And stare...before that smile on his face, all fake and tight, shattered and he started roaring with laughter. Bent over and, funnily enough, gave his knee a slap a couple of slaps while the girls relaxed and began to laugh with him even as his knees gave out and he started to wheeze. “MY SIIIIIIDES!”  
  
“That was so…” Amy giggled in between light pants as she expertly pulled the contacts out of her eyes. “So fucking _stupid_!”  
  
“I know!” Vicky chortled madly as she rolled about in the air, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle as she buzzed right over Lisa’s head, forcing the green-eyed girl to duck with a swear as she did so. “He’s so easy!”  
  
“I told you this would work!”  
  
“CAN’T BREATHE! HE-” And, with that, he fell forward on his face. Completely out cold...and it was the girl’s turn to stare, with no one laughing while Amy hurried over to his side and started checking his pulse.  
  
“ _Whoops._ ” Lisa winced, already sure that he was okay even as she planned to make it up to him later with something special… Anal maybe? She’d underestimated how much stress he’d been under, and what they’d done might have been a little much...even if she was still chuckling on the inside. “Well...at least he’s feeling better now? I never realized that beating up skinheads could be such a slog...”  
  
Vicky gave her a light slap on the back of her head, and that was that.


	4. Elseworlds: Taylor (PORCING OMAKE NSFW?)

“I’ve seen some shitty neighborhoods in my day...but god _damn_. What is this, Detroit?”  
  
Hour three of my escape from the hospital. I was not impressed. It was like every turn I made through the streets in little more than a giant paper gown and a bedsheet existed just to show me something terrible. Run down buildings. Graffiti. Bullet-marked signposts and lawns filled to bursting with dry-rotted plastic flamingos. All the signs you needed to see that a city, if not a world, was going down the drain...and they weren’t stopping.  
  
I’d made a wrong turn somewhere, clearly...but it was a bit late to turn back now, wasn’t it? I’d never been the best at directions. Giving, taking, whatever. I couldn’t tell you where a place was if my life depended on it and, one time, I’d gotten lost walking to the corner store at the end of the street. If I went back now I’d be out here all day and I really wasn’t feeling that at the moment. Wasn’t in the mood for it.  
  
Being mostly naked, while in public, got me all melodramatic. Who knew? I did...and it was getting dark. No money, no clothes, nowhere to go. I had to make some choices.  
  
After tucking myself into a nearby alley, I cupped my chin and took a good, long look at the street I was on. At all the dilapidated housing, dead grass, and rusted out engine blocks...and I ignored it. Engaged my ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ protocols...and went for the backyard of the clearly abandoned house with the tallest fence.  
  
At my size, I felt like I couldn’t quite trust any of these places to take my weight...but that was fine. I didn’t need much. Just a place to get out of the rain, some privacy, and a place to kick my feet up while I worked on actually getting back on them… Now.  
  
I eyed the nearest tree speculatively. Then, the closest overgrown hedge...and I was satisfied that that now was the time for some wilderness survival...in the middle of a city...in a First World country… Wow. That sounded pretty bad once I thought about it.  
  
Fuck it. I knew what I was doing. Maybe… I think. Ah, well. Still better than going back to Nurses Touchy, Feely, and Sexual Harassment, now was it?  
  
==========  
  
“You would think that with all the hype this gets it would be longer,” I mumbled to myself as I flipped a page in my new and battered copy of ‘The Art of War’, compliments of the free bin at the local library. Thank you, free bin at the local library. An unsung hero, you are. “The traditional commentary alone is double the original work. Not that there’s anything wrong with that or anything… Sparse on details but it certainly lays down the basics,” I said again, mostly to keep myself sane with intelligent conversation.  
  
Being unable to communicate with anyone in what I could consider a normal fashion was unbelievably frustrating. Pen and paper worked in a pinch, but it just wasn’t the same...and I’d never been all that good at languages either. Sign-language was taking its time.  
  
And, no. Hearing a Nazi punk scream at me to stop hitting them and stealing their stuff didn’t count as a conversation. Sadly. If it had, I’d have had at least a thousand conversations this month so far. A new record.  
  
“Seriously. Fantasy writers.” I continued to my non-existent audience. “It’s not hard. Only 55 pages and an hour of study would make you look less like a jackass when you’re trying to write a battle.”  
  
Snapping my current bit of entertainment closed, I eyed the pile of books stacked in the corner with a look of consideration. Art of War, classic as it was, wasn’t exactly what most people would call a ‘juicy’ piece of literature. It was the sort of thing you took in small bites. Like the one I had just had.  
  
“Let’s see here…” I reached out, plucked the nearest hardback up from the pile, and pulled it close. “What kind of wonder this is going to-” One look at the cover and I recoiled as if burned before throwing the book into my fire. “Twilight. God damn it.”  
  
In retrospect, I should have been suspicious about a bunch of books in good condition in a bookstore dumpster...but I was desperate. Being, technically, homeless was boring. Maddeningly so...and a bored me was a dangerous me. Really. It had been around the time that I had decided to build an underground Olympic sized swimming pool, that I realized that I might have had a problem.  
  
Seriously. Where was I going to get the cement for that? The supplies? The goddamn chemicals I’d need to treat that much water without worrying about catching something disgustingly parasitic? I was already huge and green. I didn’t need people wondering if I happened to have some kind of Tinker specialty too.  
  
Bullseyes. I had enough of them. Getting a Tinker label slapped on as well would just make things...uncomfortable.  
  
I snorted, shelved that bit of angst, and glanced around the shelter that I had built for myself. To keep up the classic literature references, it was an Orc hole. And that meant comfort... Sorta.  
  
I liked to think that I’d done alright for myself, considering all the disadvantages I’d found myself loaded down with... Turns out that having a BTU output high enough to melt the snow around you meant that you didn’t have to worry about freezing in the winter. That was important... Though waking up in the warm puddle that had once been your clumsy attempt at an igloo was somewhat infuriating...don’t even get me started in the accidental sinkhole that had resulted from that mess.  
  
Anyway, I’d given up on that and decided to go with the path of least resistance…down. Straight down. Out of sight, out of mind. Some strategically arranged branches over the opening and away from the public eye... And…it felt _right_. I don’t know why. Just being underground was soothing...as was the thought of eating any bugs that caught my eye.  
  
I didn’t do it or anything, of course. I wasn’t an animal...but that was a thing. Stupid orc instincts...  
  
Eh. Fuck it. Anyway, as I was saying, I liked to think that I’d done alright for myself with what I had. Some dumpster diving, some stealing from Nazi punks, some leaving piles of cash to very confused store clerks, and I had something resembling decent living conditions.  
  
A couple mattresses there to cushion me. Rugs so I didn’t track compounded dirt everywhere. Tarps to keep the overhead dirt off. A camp stove with a chimney so I could have hot food without choking on the fumes. A couple of battery lanterns in case I needed light. The remains of several chairs to act as a pseudo chair for me… You know. The basics...and it wasn’t that bad.  
  
I’d lived in worse conditions with a worse body. I could deal with this for a little while longer and… Christ. My life sucked, didn’t it?  
  
I sighed, stopped reaching for a book, and closed my eyes. Wallowed about in my somewhat justified self-pity for a little while as I pinched my nose and felt the slow onset of depression creep up my spine.  
  
Yep. Here it came. There it was...and it was rather bad this time. I swore that I could almost feel it crawling up my legs.  
  
… Wait.  
  
I bolted out of my chair and started slapping at my legs like a madman as soon as I noticed that I had bigger problems than depression at the moment. “FUCKING ANTS!” I roared quietly (it was an art) as I hopped around like I was on a griddle. “Did I leave a soda unfinished or- NOT COOL!”  
  
They’d found someplace tender...and they were starting to nibble.  
  
I bolted for the entrance of my lair. Threw up the camouflaged door. Got a hand out and most of my head in my rush to get at the nearest fire Hydrant...only to have someone beat me over the head with a baseball bat.  
  
“WHY!?”  
  
The bespectacled twig of a teenage girl who had just ambushed me, in an intelligent response to my perfectly normal question, screamed like a tea kettle and gave me another whap with her bat, right between the eyes.  
  
==========  
  
“Okay. Let’s try this again,” I muttered as I slid my slightly chipped dollar store mug across the salvage tugboat door that was my kitchen table. It had taken a bit to make it presentable but I’d done it. Rounded out the edges, smoothed out the rough spots… Oiled the shit out of it until the rust was a distant memory. No tetanus here if I could do something about it. “ _Cream? Sugar?_ ” I wrote.  
  
“Yeah. Two sugars, hold the cream.” Taylor, because of fucking _course_ it was Taylor, informed me directly after giving my notepad a cursory and, somewhat suspicious, look. Hurtful, but understandable, considering how we’d come to meet. “Thank you.”  
  
“ _Welcome._ ”  
  
Yeah. It turned out that I’d decided to break ground in the yard right behind her house. For the past month. With neither of us or her father, realizing this. Supposedly, we’d just missed each other. A lot. With a series of coincidences that had just repeatedly reinforced the idea that the spot I’d decided to take over hadn’t had an owner to take issue with the giant hole I’d made in the yard.  
  
God as my witness, I’d honestly thought that the neighborhood had been abandoned. I’d never seen a car out front and the lights were always off...which made sense. Maybe. Danny was a workaholic and Taylor had been at the hospital for a while...but, fuck. I know things were hard for her, but that house of hers was… Moving on.  
  
What had happened to set this meeting into motion was that she’d noticed something, that something being me, moving in the bushes...and decided to aggressively investigate the possible prowler in her yard. With a bat.  
  
She’d said she’d used her eyes. That the ants were just a happy accident. Pfft. Sure. Pull the other one, honey.  
  
… Actually, don’t. I’d already had a couple of fire ants chewing on my sack today. I didn’t need any more of that right now, thank you very much. It was already starting to itch...and damn, girl. Acceptable force. Have you heard of it?  
  
“ _I apologize for intruding on your property,”_ I scribbled sheepishly into my notebook in the smallest letters that my mitts could make without surgical intervention, keeping my thoughts on what she had done to me to myself. Put on my big boy pants and let bygones be bygones. “ _That wasn’t my intention.”_  
  
I was just being practical here. This was this world’s savior in a couple of timelines. Not being an aggressive A-hole and burning a bridge with her over some temporary bumps on my crotch was the smart thing to do.  
  
“I can see that.” Taylor gave the room an expansive wave, the normal reaction to being stuck in close quarters with what might as well have been a giant seemingly completely, and worryingly, absent. Had she already figured out how to dump her feelings into the swarm? Had she subconsciously accepted the morbid and completely false inevitability of her death? I couldn’t say. “But that really doesn’t change the inescapable fact that you’ve dug a twelve by twelve hole in the ground of my backyard, does it?”  
  
I winced. Way to go for the hard questions, Taylor. _“Not really.”_  
  
“What are we going to do about it then?” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Look. I know you aren’t a bad guy. A vigilante, maybe, but not a bad guy…” She sighed and took a sip of her tea while I blinked at the thought that she might have _known_ who I was, even if only from behind a screen...or, so I assumed. That sounded like a reference to a PHO interlude if anything...and, now, I missed the internet. Shit. “But you fight _Nazis_. You can probably understand why I’m just a little _leery_ about you living in my backyard. We’re going to have to talk about that.”  
  
“ _Trust me, Miss. If I’d known that this place had had someone living in it I’d have moved on.”_ I shrugged as I took a sip of my own tea out of a novelty mug that fits perfectly in the palm of my hand. One of those funny ‘you know what they say about guys with big hands’ types...and it wasn’t _wrong_. _“I don’t want no trouble.”_  
  
Taylor, with an appreciative hum, took another taste of her tea. Put it on the table, opened her mouth...then closed it as she thought something over. “... Wait a moment.” her brow furrowed and she gave me a _glare_. “Are you saying that you thought my house was _abandoned_?”  
  
I looked up at the ceiling—  
  
“Was that a comment on something?”  
  
—drank my tea—  
  
“Don’t you ignore me!”  
  
—and didn’t reply. There was no good answer to that one and Mama hadn’t raised a fool, no sir...that I’d spilled tea on my notepad right then just gave me an excuse. I was so clumsy...such a _shame_.  
  
=========  
  
“I hate them,” Taylor started through gritted teeth, the grip on her mug tight enough to turn her fingers white and make me worry about her mug’s continued existence. “I hate them so much…”  
  
Instead of saying something, I just gave her a commiserating nod and continued to mess with her hair. Hate was a strong word... But if there was anyone in the world who was justified in saying that word, it was Taylor.  
  
Okay. Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. There were a lot more people, with a lot of bigger reasons...but Taylor was pretty justified. I’d read about what they’d done to her, in the barest sense, but it hadn’t really _hit me_ how terrible they actually were.  
  
Hearing it from Taylor made it _real_. Hearing it from Taylor made it _personal_. At this point, terrible as it sounded, considering how I was talking about a couple of seriously fucked up teenage girls...they could all die in a fire and I wouldn’t even care.  
  
Taylor would though. She was like that. She was a good person, all-in-all, and she wanted to be a hero. A bastion of righteousness. A beacon in the dark.  
  
“I should put chiggers in their clothing. Infest them with ticks,” Taylor muttered darkly. “Give them lice and crabs and termites in their houses…”  
  
… Even if she slipped at times. Nobody was perfect.  
  
“ _It’s not that bad,_ ” I wrote, referring to the mess the trio had made of her hair. Orange juice and soda and milk, oh my. “ _I can brush it out._ ”  
  
“That’s not the point though…”  
  
_“I know it isn’t. But, if you hit all three of them with the same things at the same time...well.”_  
  
“Ah… Good point.” She sighed. “That would be kind of suspicious, huh?”  
  
_“Just a little,”_ I agreed as I gave her hair a spritz from my spray bottle to keep the mess in her hair soft. “ _If I were you, I’d give them crabs, have someone find out they had them, probably by having one of them move somewhere visible on their bodies, then have the crabs spread through the school._ ” I gave a particularly stubborn knot in her hair a frown. _“Discomfort and social death all-in-one.”_  
  
“That's _evil_ ,” Taylor said breathlessly, already sounding as if I'd had her halfway convinced...before she fell in on herself in a depressed slump. “But I can't do that. I'm a Cape. They aren't. It wouldn't be right.”  
  
Oh, if only Taylor knew… I’d keep that to my chest for a while. She was only just beginning to do better and I wasn’t going to screw that up by telling her about Sophia...not until Sophia was in a cell somewhere anyway, if ever.  
  
“ _What they’re doing to you isn't right either, Taylor. And we all have a right to self-defense when all else fails...which it has.”_ An admonishing flick to the forehead pulled her right out of her sulk. I got her to stop being sad, even if it was just to give me a glare as she rubbed at her skull. Success. “ _I’m saying that it’s okay to make them uncomfortable. Not that you should go Carrie on that shithole that passes for a school around these parts. Just get it closed down so that it can get fumigated. It’s the least you can do...or, at least, that’s my opinion.”_  
  
Taylor stayed quiet for a while. Continued to rub at her skull as I got past the halfway mark on fixing up the mess and just a little bit further. “Shouldn’t you be telling me not to do things like that? Seeing as you’re the reasonable adult and all...?”  
  
_“Taylor. I live in a hole in the ground, fight skinheads for a living, and my only friend in the entire world is a pretty teenage girl with some really good hair. What part of any of that makes me sound like a reasonable adult?”_  
  
Zing. Shots fired.  
  
“... You are just the worst friend.” Taylor grumbled, sounding pleased despite herself. “And a terrible influence.”  
  
_“Still your friend though...and shut your mouth. Quiet your slander. I am the best influence.”_  
  
Silence. Silence until Taylor opened her mouth one last time...  
  
“... Do you really think I’m pretty?”  
  
_==========_  
  
I looked up at the ceiling. In bed. In my swelteringly hot room. Completely sleepless. Bone-tired and as packed with energy as someone that had just mainlined a twelve-pack of energy drinks and triple espressos combined. In other words… I was pretty sure I was going to die. Like, at any moment, I’d be hit with a sudden case of arrhythmia and I’d just keel over, dead.  
  
I might have been exaggerating. I didn’t think I was, but I might have been.  
  
I hadn’t even known that I _could_ get physically worn out. Not with something like this anyway. Flipping cars, moving multi-ton boat hulls...wrestling Fenja and Menja into submission, one after the other. Those were things I had done. Things that I was still willing to do...and they hadn’t left me feeling like _this._  
  
“That was nice…” Taylor, completely naked and sweaty and warm and looking inhumanly _pleased_ , rose her head up off my chest to give me a lazy smile. The same sort of look a cat gave a mouse, just before they ate it. “But I think I can go another round...how about you?”  
  
I, seeing as I’d had a somewhat traditional upbringing as to the responsibilities of a male while in the bedroom, gave Taylor a firm nod as I tried to hide just how _tired_ I was. We were already on round eight...and I was almost starting to regret giving her the idea to shut the school down in the way she had.  
  
Taylor wasn’t someone who did well without something to do...and now that she had all this free-time… I was, currently, her best (and only) friend. We spent a lot of time together. She was straight. I was male...and the perfect vent for her emotional and sexual needs.  
  
She had a lot of frustration to burn off… Help.

 

 

 

 


	5. Moss Gets to Sleep (CANON PORCING OMAKE NSFW)

"Moss. Hey, Moss. Moss. Mooooooossss. Wake up," Lisa loudly whispered as she prodded her giant baby daddy's nose with a finger. "I need to ask you for a favor."  
  
Moss, instead of instantly caving into her demands as reality had ordained was the order of things, snorted and rolled over. Not onto _her_ , thank god, but he rolled over. Even while asleep, his awareness of his surroundings and where she was at any given moment was eerie. Also, infuriating.  
  
Some part of him was perfectly aware she was trying to wake him up...but it had decided to ignore her anyway… If she hadn’t felt the way she did right then, she’d have given up and gave him hell about it sometime later. But she did, so she wouldn’t.  
  
Her hormones were running their nails down the chalkboard of her mind and she was feeling _needy_. Also, just plain horny. Part of that forced celibacy deal you see. Making up for lost time was a thing that existed.  
  
Anyway, she persisted in the only way she knew how. With yet more words and hissed threats, yet more poking...and an ultimatum that involved him either paying attention to her or falling off of their queen-sized bed like the giant lump he was.  
  
Deciding to just stick her feet into the middle of his bare back and be done with it, she planted them and started stomping like she was a three-year-old throwing a tantrum and he was the floor. In other words, she was outright ‘nudging’ him into wakefulness instead of all of that relatively ‘gentle’ prodding she’d been doing... She might have punched him in the nose earlier. Might have. She couldn’t say and, seeing as he hadn’t woken up, and most likely hadn't even noticed, there was no proof.  
  
“God damn you, wake up and fuck me, you dumb bastard!” Lisa howled with frustration, the only thing keeping her from being heard by the floor below them being the extremely thick rug that had come with their penthouse suite. Well, that and the soundproofing that existed purely for the convenience of the hotel’s most favored clients. Like them. Oh, nostalgia... “I can’t sleep, I’m leaking a puddle into the sheets, and I need you to apply a lullaby!”  
  
When Moss rolled over again, this time to face _her_ , she’d thought that she’d actually gotten somewhere. His eyes were open, he was looking at her. Now she could stop bitching him out in favor of getting taken like one. Nothing complicated, up till she took a second look at his eyes.  
  
They were open but there was no one home. They were about as expressive as a pair of glass marbles, with the only light in them a singular dot of smoldering red in the middle. Weird, and actually a little creepy. She could deal with a lot but, with the lights off and it being in the middle of the night, the burning eyes thing was just all kinds of freaky. Very B-movie.  
  
“... Moss? You there?” Lisa licked her lips, lifted her leg, and slowly extended it towards his face. She wasn’t sure why that was her first response but, for some reason, putting her hands anywhere near that just didn’t feel like a good idea… Neither did this, to be clear, but one sounded a lot less ‘safe’ than the other. He wouldn’t hurt her or anything, it was silly to even consider it as an option, but... “Hellooooooo?”  
  
When he sat up, Lisa immediately retracted her leg with an eep. Violently so. If it hadn’t been for Amy reducing her breasts (they still needed to talk about that one.), Lisa had little doubt that she’d have just smashed her left tit into her chest like it was a speed bag. Not fun. That wasn’t the important part of this whole thing though. Nope. Nein. Not at all.  
  
The important part was that Moss, who she’d just now realized was doing the closest thing to sleepwalking that he could do or had ever done, had just put a hand on her, pulled her out from under her sheets, and was making to pull her close. Into his lap and his already waiting, full-masted erection...what she had to do now wasn’t exactly a hard decision to make.  
  
She went completely limp. She didn’t even try to struggle as a face-splitting grin grew over her face...and why wouldn’t there be a smile? Even while totally asleep, her boyfriend knew what he had to do and how to do it whenever she wanted it...and he didn’t even lose any sleep over it. Now though, that this was happening in the way it was, she had to wonder...would he give out massages like this? Cook breakfast?  
  
The, possibly mangled, saying of ‘the reward for work done well is more work’ was a saying for a reason. If Moss hadn’t wanted to be used to get the laundry done in the middle of the night, then maybe he shouldn’t have given her ideas. So was her thinking as she spread her legs and readied herself for the coming drop. Assumedly coming drop. They’d never quite done it this way before or even started it like this, with her facing away from him and him ready to pull her up and down without her input. Too impersonal, he had called it. Too much like he was treating her like a doll, he’d said.  
  
That was sweet of him...but, sometimes, a girl _wanted_ to be treated like a doll. It might have been messed up to say it but it was true. It was that part of her that wanted someone to dom the shit out of them. That dirty little monkey brain, always looking for the next big thing… Although, there were limits, even for the monkey brain. Limits that a sleep-addled sexual dynamo could not or would not recognize. Clearly.  
  
The quickly growing pressure against her asshole threw every thought of sleep, or sleepytime intelligence and boundaries, out of her head right off.  
  
Moss was completely dead to the world, gone in ways that Lisa had never known someone could sink to without the help of several highly powerful opiates and a high drip IV. His sleeping self was also completely ignorant of the size difference between the large, round rod trying to force itself into her small, round hole...not that he would have been all that worried about it if he’d been _awake_.  
  
“THAT'S THE WRONG HOLE! WRONG HOLE, DAMN IT!” Lisa bellowed as she picked a giant green finger, put both of her hands against it, and pushed at it like it was the only door out of a flooding room. She kicked her feet. Screamed. Made a fool of herself and, if she could have reached those fingers with her face, she might have even tried to take a bite. Being faced with the very likely inability to use the bathroom normally ever again was a very good incentive you see. “WAKE UP BEFORE YOU RIP ME APA-!”  
  
He’d somehow managed to fit all of it in her pussy after all… He’d already added the lube she was supposed to bring to the table in the other case. He was dripping with pre. She could smell it. Feel it too, oozing into her crack like it was molten oil. It was getting everywhere, _into_ everywhere, and it was doing a damn fine job at weakening any defense she might have had...what came next was not at all unexpected.  
  
It was just like the first time they'd had sex when the tip, after a long struggle, popped in with a sound not unlike that of a drain being unclogged. A loud, wet schlorp. A messy pop. Her eyes crossing as she started to drool on herself like a total _moron_ as pain and pleasure came together to burn her brain right out of her skull.  
  
It was manageable. Barely. She'd done something like this before not all that long ago. She’d kind of known what to expect. Losing her virginity hadn't exactly been _easy_ the first time around either… That she hadn't fainted yet, even with Moss still pushing that gigantic purple tip and thick green shaft up towards her stomach, said a _lot_ about where her tolerances were these days.  
  
Moss was as good as splitting her in two. Invading her. Turning her into nothing more than the right and left sides of her body, separated by an impenetrable expanse of dick flesh and painfully sappy cock drunk metaphor as Moss used her ass as his own personal masturbation sleeve.  
  
That last part wasn’t at all metaphor. In his sleep, that was all she was to him. That was all she could hope to be as her protestations turned into painfully girlish moans and sighs and her stomach began to round, to make room for the impossible mass snaking through her lower half and touching base with parts of her it had no business touching base with… This had no right to feel as _good_ as it did, for the hurt to vanish with the minute it had began in...but when had that ever changed anything, really?  
  
Possible, impossible. Just words. For Lisa, sex had always been the closest thing to perfect from start to stop with only a bump or two in between. Even now, even as her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably and her eyes rolled. Even as she babbled nonsense and her muscles spasmed like they’d just been struck by lightning thanks to an overloaded and _super_ confused nervous system...she found she still couldn’t expect anything other than that.  
  
When he hilted her, forced himself so deep inside of her that it felt like he was in her throat, she just about _died._ Turned her head up to the ceiling, slapped her hands against her face, and _screamed_ as an orgasm hit her like a bomb had just gone off. A fucking supernova that had her pussy clenching at air and squirting like mad as her asshole quaked around Moss’s length like a living thing. A living thing with its own mind, it’s own agenda; unsure whether to push or pull against its guest and trying to do both at once, with no idea that it had no choice in the matter of what happened to it next.  
  
Just like the rest of her.  
  
She didn’t even get to finish her screams to break for air before Moss lifted her up, replacing whatever was left of it into a pitiful whimper and the sucking of her lube stuffed hole as it dragged along his shaft. All the way up to the head where she stopped with a jolt and a woof of air, the consequences of her being nowhere near loose enough to avoid getting stuck on the glans… That wasn’t the last time it happened either as he started to up the pace.  
  
Right here, right now, that wasn’t a bug. It was a feature. For both of them. It was how they knew where the buck stopped before she went back to being the perfect cock warmer. The eternal cum dumpster. Forever warm, forever wet, with always just enough room to move freely in but not so much that it wasn’t nice and cozy.  
  
She started to _fly_ at this point. To _glide_ up and down his length like she’d been made for it. Like she’d been _made_ to take Moss’s dick inside of her...like her purpose, her reason for existence, was to be laid flush against Moss’s body. Crotch to crotch, rear on base, mouth on flesh...and, as every single thought that wasn’t taken up by her cumming and squirting herself to death began to circle the drain, she _understood_.  
  
The book hadn’t been near just how bad it could be if Moss ever let himself go. Not even close.  
  
This was Moss if he wasn’t who he was. This was him if he let the beast out to play. The destroyer, the defiler, the deviant. This was him in the role of one of the monsters that she’d seen in that book, treating her as nothing but a tool for his pleasure and a breeding sow...if this had been her first time, if this had been her first introduction to the sex and pleasure, she’d have broken. Shattered like a window that had just taken a porcelain brick. She wouldn’t have left that room with her sanity intact...and, as she felt Moss’s cock begin to swell and his balls pull up against his body...she worried.  
  
When Moss pushed her down and left her there, Lisa fell over. Forward over the edge of his hand as her head hung low and a keening whine left her throat. Blind, deaf, and dumb. So far past done that breathing was a chore while he lightly bounced her bottom on his pelvis to coax out his quickly coming load.  
  
If this was what a breeding sow got on the regular she could see why they might be tempted to fall...and she found the thought of doing so to be much better than it ever should have been. It sounded like _fun_.  
  
Moss grunted, made the first sound he’d made since he’d started using her as the first rope shot up his length and out, straight into Lisa’s depths. A single, near solid mass that instantly rounded her stomach the slightest bit further. A clear herald of what was yet to come as Lisa unleashed a flood of girl-cum into Moss’s lap.  
  
Her whining stopped. Her eyes rolled up into her head, far enough for it to _ache_ as her body reacted in sympathy to Moss’s, nearly as if they were in direct competition. Everytime Moss came, she came. While the rest of her had as much strength in it as a wet strand of spaghetti, her slit was pushing fluid out like it had been hooked up to a pump in thin, pressurized ejaculations of its own.  
  
Far-reaching. Loud. Persistent. Oh so persistent and unwilling to stop even as the fingers around her ballooning middle were forced to spread to accommodate her. Even as Moss, as good as spent and still out, let her go to fall on her face. The head of his prick still in her ass, keeping her plugged better than any cork while he continued to fill her ass with his cream...and she got her lullaby, just as a tingling started up on her lower back and her belly started to lift her off the bed.  
  
==========  
  
“How the fuck does this even _work_?” Lisa asked herself before she went back to doing what she’d been doing before. “What are the rules to this?” Holding her (lightly soiled) shirt up, looking over her shoulder, and staring at the mirror even as her neck started to actually _hurt_...not as bad as her ass did, sure, but it hurt. “I demand a manual because, at this point, this is just pissing me off. How am I supposed to wear belly shirts now?”  
  
She’d just got out of the shower a couple minutes ago. She didn’t envy the person responsible for dealing with that mess. It had been like molasses coming out and she didn’t think it was going to be any easier to remove it from the plumbing. Maybe even worse. That wasn’t her problem though. Not anymore.  
  
That she now had a tramp stamp, one that was visibly growing before her eyes to connect to the tattoo at the front in an, admittedly, aesthetically pleasing color-shift pattern, _was_ her problem. A big one. For reasons, some of which were bigger than others. That it was now dipping down into her crack was something that she endeavored to ignore until she couldn’t anymore.  
  
After last night, she was honestly too scared to take a look. Ruined or bedazzled, it was just better not to know...oh well. If she ignored it for long enough it would go away or, somehow, become a help. It hadn’t failed to work so far so why mess with what wasn’t broken?  
  
Lisa, feeling like she was no longer alone, allowed her eyes to flick up into the mirror, her face completely flat.  
  
Amy and Victoria returned that look, their own faces just as flat if not more so. Awkward silence, just like the still lingering smell of semen and raw butt sex, filled the bathroom like a lingering cloud… Oh god, now it was even _worse_.  
  
“Doesn’t Moss have as much girth as a telephone pole?” Victoria asked cautiously while Amy, slowly, pulled a can of air freshener out of one of the pockets in her robe. “Because...well… I kinda have to ask.” She circled her hand in the general direction of Lisa’s butt. “Are you okay? And...” Vicky looked around furtively, acting as if someone besides them was just around the corner as her voice dropped to a whisper. “Was it worth it?”  
  
Victoria could never ask the easy questions, could she?  
  
“... Am I okay?" Lisa nervously licked her lips. "We’ll see. I’ll tell you as soon as I find out.” A blush, long overdue, started at Lisa’s collarbone and started working its way up. “And, yeah. Yeah, it was. Just...just don’t ask him for sex when he’s sleeping, alright? He can get kind of...rough.”  
  
“Can do!”  
  
Amy, now surrounded by a protective fog of pine-scented air freshener and future bad decisions, just gave Lisa a thoughtful nod.


End file.
